


Fulfilment

by ultharkitty



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Romance, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 20:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17291120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: Jazz and Prowl take their relationship to a new level.This is a giftfic for ulstercycle, written to the prompt:Praxians have a serious thing for the submission of their partners. This is the first time Prowl has to bring it up to Jazz.. ulstercycle, I hope you enjoy it! Happy New year :DContains: sticky, light D/s, enthusiastic consent, negotiations, romance.Massive thanks to the wonderful sunnysidesofblue, without whose help and encouragement I never could have written this <3





	Fulfilment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ulstercycle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ulstercycle/gifts).



"So, uh." It wasn't like Prowl to be hesitant. And it wasn’t like him to edge around a subject. Usually he came right out with whatever he wanted to say, his forthright honesty just one of the many things that had attracted Jazz to him in the first place. 

But tonight he was cautious, his attractive mouth set in a serious line, his doorwings held high and rigid. 

Seated at the desk beside Prowl’s private bunk in the Ark, Jazz leaned his chin on his folded arms and offered a reassuring smile. “Go on.”

“This is…” Prowl reset his vocaliser, and Jazz was sure he couldn’t strain his doorwings any higher if he tried. He had the urge to reach out, to take one of Prowl’s lovely hands, and kiss him until he melted. But that might just distract him from what he wanted to say, and he clearly had something he needed to get off his chest. 

His chest, now that was something else Jazz couldn’t help but admire. He forced himself to meet Prowl’s optics - it didn’t matter how many times they’d enjoyed each other while off duty, it wasn’t polite to stare. He smiled again, enjoying the dazzled gleam in the bright blue of Prowl’s gaze. Prowl coughed again, and bit his lip. 

“I have something to ask you,” he said, and Jazz gave a gentle nod. He had fifteen separate theories zipping around his processors regarding what exactly Prowl was trying to say, but no clear indication of which was most likely. Jazz stretched out a leg, getting a taste of Prowl’s energy field, but it told him nothing new. In spite of his apparent nervousness, Prowl was in command of his own frame. 

“We’ve been together six months now,” Prowl said, and Jazz quickly severed the line of thought that theorised this could be the end. It wasn’t the end; if it was, Prowl would come right out with it. “Six highly enjoyable months,” Prowl continued, and Jazz let his smile grow. “I find myself…” he paused, and it was so odd to see him falter, and so endearing. “I find myself increasingly invested,” he pressed on. “Physically, mentally, emotionally.”

“I love you too,” Jazz murmured, and Prowl’s brief smile warmed his spark. 

“We… are rather compatible, aren’t we?” Prowl said, and Jazz laughed. 

“Very,” he said. “You were trying to ask me something?”

Prowl straightened again, his hands flat on the table. “Jazz,” he said, and he was so formal Jazz had to exercise some iron self control of his own not to burst out laughing. “I enjoy being with you,” Prowl continued. “I… especially enjoyed our most recent interface.”

“You and me both,” Jazz replied, enjoying the sensor echoes prompted by the recollection. Face down on the bunk, and with his hands cuffed behind his back, Prowl’s cord had found nodes he’d forgotten he had. “I’m up for a repeat,” he added, just in case that was on the cards. 

This time Prowl’s smile was more a knowing smirk, confident and controlled, and far closer to his normal self. “Your submission was nothing short of exquisite,” he said, and with that admission Jazz had a far better idea where this was headed. Still, he held his tongue, letting Prowl lead the way. “I’ve always enjoyed that in a partner,” he said. “But with the war and the cause, I tried to suppress it. Last night reminded me just how good it could be.”

“So,” Jazz said, feeling that now was the time to slide out of his chair and deposit his aft on the desk. He swung himself around, coming to rest with his legs spread either side of Prowl’s solid frame, and leaned back on his hands. “You wanna take the lead?”

“Very much,” Prowl whispered, and his words were nearly lost under the urgent growl of his engine. His gaze swept over Jazz’s open thighs, then up to meet his optics. “But I need to know,” he said, “where your boundaries lie. To what degree can I take the lead and still fulfill you?”

Jazz licked his lips; those hands were just close enough for the edge of Prowl’s energy field to brush against his own, so very close to his panels. “You know,” he said softly, “I don’t think I have enough data points by far to map that out.” He let his back arch, his hood standing prominent. “But I’m more than willing to explore it with you.” 

“We’ll need a failsafe,” Prowl said. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Jazz did laugh at that, lightly and teasingly. “You’ve got me all worked up already,” he said. “I can’t say I’m entirely comfortable like this, but I like it. So, what’s the safe word?”

“Exit?” Prowl suggested, and Jazz grinned his acknowledgment. 

“Exit it is,” he said. “Now how do you want me?”

Prowl took a moment to watch him, in command of himself again. He had that stern look about him, so controlled, and it was delicious just trying to read him. Prowl let his optics rove, then a single solitary fingertip, trailing it from the tip of Jazz’s foot along the inside of his leg, his thigh, skirting his rapidly heating panel and over his hood to rest on his lower lip. 

Jazz couldn’t help but lap out his tongue, and Prowl stood to loom over him. “Naughty,” he said. “Your glossa will do what I tell it to, and only what I tell it to,” he added, provoking a shudder and a flush of warmth that made it very hard for Jazz to sit still. 

Prowl drew back a little, and tapped him on the nose. Then he grabbed Jazz’s thighs and pulled him forward until the overheating surface of Jazz’s most intimate cover butted up against Prowl’s codpiece. He scrambled to support himself on the table, but Prowl had already caught him. “Relax,” he said, and Jazz let his arms go limp. “I’ve been thinking about having you all day,” he told him, and Jazz could have melted there and then. He did nothing to stop his fans whirring on, and the answering flare of Prowl’s energy field made him ache to be filled. 

“Expose yourself,” Prowl ordered, and Jazz let out a happy whimper. His covers spiralled back, his cord already rising to pressure. “Now,” Prowl said, laying him gently on his back on the table, “you will prepare yourself for me.”

Jazz didn’t need to be asked twice. Never ashamed to put on a show, he danced a languorous hand over his own hood, and touched all the parts of himself he wanted Prowl to touch as he slowly approached the wet heat of his naked port. He couldn’t see past the rise of his own chest, but Prowl’s attention was clear from the thrum of his energy field, and his occasional pleased murmur. 

When Prowl took a hold of his cord, he shuddered and gasped, and when the stroking faded to the lightest of touches he moaned. He was more than ready when he felt the tip of Prowl’s cord nudge past his slick fingers, and when Prowl told him to use his hands to hold up his aft he did. The angle was even deeper than the previous night, the frustrations and stresses of the day beginning to dissolve as their mutual pleasure built. 

“You may overload,” Prowl whispered, and the surge of arousal made Jazz’s spark flare. “Indeed,” Prowl continued, “you _will_ overload. And once you have climaxed, you will keep yourself open, do you understand?”

“Primus, yes!” Jazz groaned, clenching the better to feel the slide of the cord. 

“Primus has nothing to do with it,” Prowl said softly. “Do I lack rank?”

“Sir!” Jazz laughed, loving the way it made his nodes sing, the way the feeling tugged at his spark. “No, sir! Understood, sir!”

Prowl’s response was an increase of pace that left Jazz speechless. “You will make yourself available to me,” he stated. “Every port you possess, your cord, your spark. Your firewalls will be down, your hands above your head. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes! Yes, sir, yesyesyes!” Jazz didn’t need to know what Prowl planned to do with him, just the thought of laying open in all conceivable ways was enough to prompt the blooming of an overload that shook him to his bolts. 

It wasn’t long before Prowl joined him, thrusting deep and holding still through his own climax, his hands tight on Jazz’s hips. When a lazy smile appeared on his face, Jazz expected him to withdraw, but he didn’t, not yet. Instead, he leaned over Jazz, putting a new and tantalising pressure on his nub.

“How was that?” he queried, giving Jazz’s hips a little tug. 

“We could do that every day,” Jazz sighed, and dialled his valve as snug as he could make it, trying to keep Prowl inside him. “You liked it?”

“Oh very much,” Prowl responded, and Jazz grinned wide as Prowl dipped his head to kiss Jazz’s hood. “Would you like to continue?”

Jazz squirmed; satisfied as he was, it wouldn’t be long before he was raring to go again. “You wanted me open, sir?” he said, and Prowl smiled and bent to kiss his lips.


End file.
